


The palm of his hand

by ptarn



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Mutant, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptarn/pseuds/ptarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the best-kept secrets to date is that slowly but surely human DNA is evolving to produce a different kind of human: mutants. Every country's government tries its best to keep knowledge of their existence from the public, but a man of Moriarty's intelligence is drawn to a big secret like that like a moth to a flame. Only he's not a moth, but a spider of the deadliest kind who wants to own this new power.<br/>Sherlock and John are faced with a string of disappearances and murders, which leads them to uncover this secret as well. As they come across more clues they find that not only do they have to thwart Moriarty's plans, but they also have to deal with Mycroft, who's not too keen on having his little brother and his assistant know about his - and by extension, the government's - plans for mutants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The palm of his hand

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this particular idea came from, but I decided to run with it. This story is set in an alternate universe of my own making. It's NOT a crossover between Sherlock and Marvel or something like that. Of course some elements will be the same as those of Marvel's universe, but that's to be expected when it comes to writing about mutants. All other characters are my own creations.

A naked Jim sat behind his desk, in the dark, transfixed on the screen directly in front of him. The night had always been his favourite time, the time when he could work without little to no distractions, when ‘good’ people were fast asleep, safe and sound behind locked doors. Doors that had a tendency to open when a certain dark-haired criminal mastermind snapped his fingers, be it on a whim or because he had business to take care of. Two screens, one on each side of the central one, showed Jim all sorts of messages, some of which had to be answered now – in as far as one could ‘order’ Moriarty to do anything – but Jim let them wait. He let them all wait, because what he’d   found was infinitely more interesting than any of his currently active schemes, even more interesting than the man who was snoring lightly in the bed behind him.

Jim had been thorough, like he always was, in tracking several strange little newspaper reports, blog posts, videos that seemed to disappear the moment he found them, e-mails that never existed and even tweets that seemed to get lost in cyberspace. It had taken him quite a while to put every snippet of information together, but he’d finally managed to get at the big picture. And that picture was magnificent. It had taken him the better part of two years to compose it, and now that he could finally see it, what he saw was fascinating beyond belief. 

"Mutants."

The one word was spoken with as much glee as it was with pure maliciousness. Jim's pupils widened and a lazy grin formed on his face as the adrenalin rush, which was far superior to any artificially induced high, hit him head-on. A myriad of possibilities bloomed in his mind. To think of all the amazing things he could do when he had such a force at his disposal... To have such /powers/ and maybe even make them his... It was enough to give him not just a proverbial hard-on. 

Suddenly his hands sprang to life, answering messages almost as fast as he was composing them. He called in favours, kindly ‘reminded’ people of certain deals they'd struck with him, blackmailed some, threatened others, had a some killed, had others kidnapped. The few people who'd ever seen him work when he was in such a state of pure elation could never think of it other than 'magic'. The way his fingers danced over his keyboard, all the various programs that kept opening and closing, the mad and at the same time childish smile on his face, the undiluted and unmistakable insanity that practically lit up his eyes... Some would even say they'd seen the Devil at work. 

Jim didn't much care for such mundane thoughts. Magic, demons, angels... Nothing more than the figments of stupid, ordinary people who couldn't accept that life was just life and death was just death. However, what he did believe in, was science. And this, this was science at its most wonderful. His frantic actions intensified, more and more windows popped up, his fingers seemed to move too fast for a human being to achieve as his almost silent dance reached a crescendo... And all was silent. The screens went black, Jim stood up, took a deep breath, sighed as if he’d just had the most amazing sex ever, and went back to bed after setting the alarm on his mobile phone.

As he settled in and pulled the sheet over him, he cuddled up to the bruised hitman, kissed Moran’s face and whispered his name until the other man woke up. In a distinctly sleepy voice the object of these affections inquired what was going on.

"I'm very _hungry_ , darling," was Jim's only reply.

It took his faithful sniper the better part of an hour to satisfy this particular hunger of his boss.

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned, this is a work in progress, so it might take while for us to reach the end. Also, until recently I wasn't aware of the term 'brit-picked', so if I made any glaring errors when it comes to using American English instead of British English, don't hesitate to let me know.


End file.
